


Zeitgeist

by kopfkino



Category: Football RPF
Genre: --ish, Falling In Love, Football, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-24 01:55:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7488810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopfkino/pseuds/kopfkino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas Müller figured joining Bayern Munich's first team meant a lot of things. He never once thought about the possibility of ending with a gift where he can bend time to his will.<br/>He has now the power to change his past in order to improve his future. But... It's easier said than done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They say goalkeepers have unmatchable skills and abilities. Their instinct is terribly spot on and it's up to the striker to fool them, get the ball in the back of the net. Thomas, having played football most of his life, knows this very well. Sometimes he wishes he had Bastu's spot, in the defense at the back. Jürgen Klinsmann, their manager, had immediately noticed his ease at penalty shooting, and it's not like he doesn't enjoy scoring against Michael Rensing, it's just that there's a lot of pressure on his shoulders. 

Playing at Bayern München has been his dream since he was 10 years old. It was something he had wanted since he got his first jersey. He's so terribly close to joining the first team, all he wants to do is prove himself. He profiles himself and the whistle blows.

One, two, three, shoot. He misses.

Well no, actually, Michael predicts perfectly where the shot is going. It's more of a block than a miss. It still sucks all the same. Jürgen shakes his head, and even if he doesn't show any sign of disappointment, Thomas is furious at himself. Bad part is, he's never been good at hiding his feelings. He turns around and throws an fist to the air. It's Holger who finds him and puts a hand on his shoulder. He knows his friend well enough to know what he's going to say.

"I'm okay." He thinks he skips that bullet perfectly when the defender shakes his head, looking pass him.

"No, two incoming at 12 o'clock."

Thomas turns around to find Philipp Lahm and Miroslav Klose walking right towards them. His heart starts to race, and his hand grab a grip on Holger's jersey, to avoid tumbling down. The pair stop before them and Fips is the one to open his mouth. 

"Müller, do you have a minute?" 

Thomas nods almost too fast, trying to ignore the fact that his platonic figure is standing right next to them. Ever since they met, Thomas had developed the biggest admiration-slash-crush on the striker. It's ridiculous how he's already blushing because Miro is simply looking at them both. It's even worst when he opens his mouth. 

"Holger is it? I was thinking I could teach you som-" 

Thomas can't finish the end of that sentence because Philipp has already gripped his arm and pulling slowly. He hopelessly looks back as Miro seems still be talking to Holger. Are they going to work together? How unfair. Why does Holger get Miro and he gets Fips? They would have gotten all the way in if it weren't for the captain blocking the way. 

"What is it?" An annoyed Fips asks. 

Van Bommel shakes his head. "You gotta come with me. It's urgent." 

"Can't it wait?" 

"Coach's orders, something about the national teams too."

"Fine, Thomas, I still need to talk to you some other time. For now, go back and practice your shooting." 

An annoyed sigh follows from the young man, as he watches Mark take Fips away with him.

 

 

"FC Bayernnn, we're FC Bayern München playersssss!" Holger happily announces, his glass up in the hair. He hugs Thomas as soon as he walks in the room, and the other man cheers. 

"You were already players, dummies." Bastian Schweinsteiger adds from the back. 

"Well we have contracts with the first team now." 

Thomas watches Bastian let out a giggle and turn to Lukas, his closest... friend? He suspects there's something more going on between the pair. He'd have to be blind not to notice anyway. "Yeah, Van Gaal really seems to like you." The blond adds, before Philipp Lahm walks in the room. 

"Just in time for the cake, Fips!" Lukas smiles, which the smaller man decides to ignore.

"Müller, can you come with me for a minute?" 

He nods skeptically as Bastian turns to Holger probably whispering something about it. 

"Don't eat any cake without me." He warns, directly at Holger, knowing he can trust him more than the pair of tricksters on the couch. 

They decide to go all the way to the lockers where Philipp sits down and offers Thomas to do the same. It only occurs to him now that he might be about to be scolded. Did he forget to put air in the balls again? Wouldn't be the first time. 

"Congrats on the contracts, I'm sure you two will do amazing at Bayern." 

Thomas isn't fooled, he knows he's not here to be congratulated about that. 

"What's up?" He temptingly asks, not sure if he's in trouble. Fips takes a moment, taking deep breathes. Usually he does those things before Bayern has a match (or so he's noticed). "Are you okay?" 

"This is just a very important moment, I had the same moment as you when I first signed with Bayern and it changed my life completely, so I'm not sure how to tell you."

"Uh, okay." He tries to divert his stare from Philipp to the ground, but he realises it probably doesn't look natural, so he looks at his hands, and plays with them a bit, waiting for Fips to continue. 

"This is going to sound strange, but there's something you need to know." 

Philipp has to look around wondering if they're not alone.

"Uh, sure?"

"For about a century now, club football has been a huge part of our world, would you agree?" He doesn't actually wait for Thomas to reply, "Well, each club has been known for its loyal players, and there's this secret that the most loyal of them are rewarded somehow. And well, Bayern München devoted players can..." He takes another glance to the door.

"...... travel in time." 

Thomas blinks, and looks at the door too, wondering if he's not being pranked by the entire team. Fips continues. "Well actually not travel in time, travel back in time would be more exact, we can't travel into the future. I'm not sure what other clubs give their loyal players, but--"

The younger man stands up. "What on earth are you talking about?" 

"Well, you've been 'chosen' to have this gift."

"This is such a weird joke." He shakes his head. "Are Bastian and Lukas waiting at the door? Are they filming this?"

"Joke? It's no joke, listen, I thought the same when I was told, but it's not as dark as it sounds, it's only in our own lives, we can only go back to places we've been or so, you can't go back and kill Hitler, or stop John Kennedy's murder, for example."

There's a silence between the pair, with Thomas shaking his head far more often than he thought possible. "H-How?"

"That's the easiest part, actually. All you have to go is to get into a dark room, clench your fists, think of the moment you're going to, and you'll be there.."

Fips gets up, and Thomas follows with his eyes. He opens a locker and makes a hand gesture inviting him inside. "Just try it." He'd make a joke about it, but Fips looks as serious as he's always been. 

Rather unwillingly, he takes a step inside, and closes his eyes, what moment would he like to go back? This is pointless, so the first thing he thinks of is that missed penalty against Rensing a few months ago. He's not sure why that particular memory stuck with him. With his fists clenched, he takes a deep breath.

It feels a bit weird, as if he stood up too quickly from a chair or something. 

"This is stupid." He lets out, but there's no reply. He opens it slowly to find that it's empty. Philipp has taken quite the work to make a fool out of him. It's probably all a bad joke and when he'll walk outside, everyone will be laughing at him. 

Except they don't. 

He opens the door to find that it's about 4 in the afternoon and Jürgen waves at Thomas. "Müller, where have you been? You're supposed to be taking penalty kicks!" His mouth drops, and he nods, half hesitant. On his right, he spots Fips and Miro watching him. He's tempted to call Philipp out on this, but he guesses it's better not to. 

The ball is set right between his legs, and Rensing gives him the exact same poker face Thomas tried to fool once. He stopped his shot to the right... Thomas remembers. He takes a few steps and kicks it to the left instead. He can't believe his eyes when Michael jumps to the right, just like he did before, and it's in. Jürgen lets out a cheer, and Thomas blankly stares. 

He's scored. 

Holger is the first to touch his shoulder, but he's surprised, Thomas is usually euphoric each time he scores. He doesn't have the time to ask about it, because Holger focuses on something behind him. 

"Two incoming at 12 o'clock."

Thomas doesn't have to look to know it's Fips and Miro again. This time he doesn't even wait for Philipp to talk, he grabs his arms and drags him inside the building back into the locker rooms. He spots Mark from the other side of the camp and knows he's looking for Fips. Not this time.

 

"I take it you know already." Fips concludes, after seeing Thomas' expression.

"But I don't understand how?"

"We don't know. Honestly, it's a mystery, but it works. What did you do?"

"I missed the penalty kick, went back and got it right."

Philipp makes a grimace, and shakes his head. "Oh right, you ought to be careful about football. The only rule is that you cannot use it to win games, or to make yourself famous. Just, don't use it for anything Football related."

"You too?"

"Yeah... Didn't quite believe at first either. I've done some pretty reckless things with it. Gerd was the one who dropped the bomb on me, oh, right, Gerd Müller has it too."

"Gerd?" 

"Yeah, he always knew you'd have it too. It was a matter of time until it developed, usually it's when you sign the contract. But Thomas, you can't tell anyone."

"Who knows?"

"Just us three, and it has to stay that way. No one else would believe it anyway." Thomas nods slowly, "And remember the Football Rule."

"Don't worry. It'd be a bit like cheating, and it's kind of unfair." 

"Kind of?" Fips raises an eyebrow, and Thomas laughs. 

He sits down, completely mindblown by the absurdity of the situation. Fips joins him and smiles when Thomas ruffles his hair with his hand. "It's going to be a complicated season." 

"Season? It's going to be a complicated life."

Thomas blinks. "What do I do with it?"

Fips smiles. "You have to use it to make your life the way you want it to be."

 

Thomas goes back into the closet and thinks back of his moment with Bastian and Holger. He takes a step outside, and looks around. He looks at his phone. Fips is right, he's back in the present. 

Damn.

He opens the door and walks down the stairs thinking about how he never believed in those time travelling movies when he almost trips over the last step. He wishes he could call his family, and tell them about this. He falls over himself and rolls a bit on the red carpet. Typical.

"Are you alright?" 

He looks up to find no other than Miroslav Klose standing before him. He holds out a hand, waiting for Thomas to take it. He's partially thankful, partially blushing. The older man lets out a weak smile, and Thomas realises he hasn't replied yet.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine I always trip down.. the stairs." 

Miro raises an eyebrow, and Thomas regrets every word. It's funny how he can never stop talking to most of his friends, but with Miroslav... he never knows what to talk about. He's usually so quiet, and hangs out with Mark, Frank or Philipp.

"Congrats on signing with Bayern," Miro starts instead, which almost makes Thomas jump. "Fips told me about you and Holger. I'm happy you'll be staying with us." 

"You're happy about it?" He can hardly repeat it. When Miro nods, Thomas smiles a huge grin. " Thanks, you too."

It only hits him when the Pole smiles a bit, the nonesense of his words. Miro awkwardly nods. "Thanks..."

He wants to ask him out. God dammit, he just needs to say those 7 words. Do. You. Want. To. Have. Dinner. With. Me. He's rehearsed against the mirror a hundred times, but when he's standing before this bordering perfect specimen, everything fails. 

Miro looks like he's waiting for Thomas to say something, this is his chance.

"Hey, Miro..."

It's just then when they're interrupted from the end of the hallway.

"Müller, where the hell have you been? It's been hours! We want to eat the cake already. Mr. I'm-too-good-for-this-world-Badstuber wont let us until you come back. " An angry Schweinsteiger shouts. 

He looks up and finds Bastian with Lukas, with Holgi behind them. He's about to reply but Schweini starts walking towards them. He notices Miro and immediately changes his tone. "Miro! Want some cake?"

"That's okay, I should be getting home anyway, but you four have fun." He gives Thomas a smile, and he honestly wonders if he's not going to burst in front of everyone. "See you around." 

Thomas stares at the door where he exits, his heart still beating fast for the closest he's been at asking him out. 

"What did Fips want?" Holger curiously asks, not acknowledging the entire situation.

"Nothing. didn't fill some balls with air."

It's a lie but Holger seems to buy it. Thomas wonders how his friend would react if he knew the truth. Suddenly, it hits him like a truck. The truth, of course. Fips' words run through his head.

_You have to use it to make your life the way you want it to be._

Thomas knows exactly what he wants, well, more like who he wants.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (here lukas didn't go back to köln after bayern in 2008)

"Are you-- sure about this?" Holger says, in an uneasy tone. 

"Come on, Badstu. It's the World Cup in a couple of months, and if you want Jogi to notice you, you _gotta_ do this." 

Holger takes a deep breath and sighs, he knows it's not wise to simply trust Lukas Podolski blindly, but a part of him really does want Joachim Löw's attention. He picks up the phone, and before dialling the number, hesitates. 

"But how does asking Jogi if he ordered a chicken bake salad.... help with football?" 

"It's a test he tells the young players. Trust me. I've been there."

There's a knock on the door, followed by a muffled 'Lukas..'. His friend yells something in Polish in reply. Holger blinks when Miroslav walks in and shakes his head.

"Is Lukas trying his chicken bake salad prank on you? Don't do it, Jogi is sick of it."

"Miro! How dare you!" Lukas acts as if such an idea had never even crossed his mind. 

"It's my job to defend the poor and innocent players... left on this team." Miro smiles, opening a bottle of water from the fridge. They're at their away match against Manchester United for the Champions League and as an attempt from Van Gaal to keep Lukas and Bastian away from each other at least during the night, Miro was the next best choice for being Lukas' roommate. 

"Welp. What can I say? I'm nothing without my Schweini." Lukas starts, and Miro is already rolling his eyes on him. Holger laughs softly. 

"Look at him, what a romantic.."

Lukas pretends he's offended. "It's not my fault you're bitter and alone." 

"I'm not-- bitter and alone." Miro replies,  

"You wish you weren't,"

Holger blinks at the implication of the sentence. "You like someone?" He asks, interrupting them, he notices Miro's cheeks just turning a bit red.

"No," He awkwardly shakes his head. "I don't." 

Lukas disagrees however, and a wicked smile appears on his face. "See? Even the rookie noticed, it's obvious..." 

"Who do you like?" Holger tries again. He's partially nervous, because of course, Thomas. Even if he has never said actually said the words 'I'm been in love with Miroslav Klose for almost two years now', it's a spoken truth between him and his best friend. He's been practically drooling over him ever since they first joined Bayern. 

Miro turns to Lukas and tries to make him stop. "He's his friend." He whispers, a perfectly failed attempt to keep Holger from figuring it out. "He'll figure it out eventually." 

"Thomas!" Holger shouts having put the pieces together, a bit too excited, then covers his mouth with his hands. Oh god. He may have just compromised Thomas' entire relationship with Miro. Lukas breaks into tears of laughter.  

"He makes me laugh," Miro tries to excuse himself. Holger doesn't take his eyes from him a grin wide on his face.

"Exactly! Took him long enough to finally get interested in someone in the team. I was starting to get worried." The Pole ends up throwing a pillow at Lukas.

"Shut up."

"This is payback for telling Holgi about my chicken bake salad master plan."

"You've been doing that since I met you! It's time to find a new prank."

Lukas returns to his laughing fit when Bastian opens the door. He immediately wants to know what all the fuss is about. 

"Holger just figured out Miro likes Thomas." 

Bastian turns to Holger, who shrugs, then to Miro who is too embarrassed to deal with these children. He's regretting ever coming in this damn hotel room. Maybe he could ask Van Gaal to switch rooms with Fips. He sighs, knowing Louis isn't exactly fond of him. He leaves his bottle of water and gets up towards the door. 

He's about to open it when someone else on the other side beats him to it. Miro feels like he wants the world to swallow him alive when it's Thomas. 

"Bastian, give me back my sandwich! I saw you come in here!" It doesn't take long to notice who is standing next to him and immediately jumps. "Mi-Miro!" 

"Thomas." The Pole greets, ignoring Holger, Bastian and Lukas all laughing together in the back. "What's the matter?"

"Uh- Bastia- Bastian took my wich--sandwich." 

Miro turns to Schweini, giving him a look. The blond shrugs and throws the bag to his arms. Thomas can't fight his smile.

"Thanks Miro... Uh.. Are you guys okay?" He asks, noticing for the first time since he opened the door that Holger is nearly out of breath from laughing with Bastian and Lukas. It's usually them laughing at him. 

"Yeah." Miro replies, a small smile on his lips, "They're fine." which is enough for Thomas to stop asking questions. He finds himself smiling even more, until he can feel his skin getting redder. It's best to leave the room before something worse happens, so he excuses himself. 

Miro places a hand on his hip, when the door closes behind him. 

"You can't say anything, Holgi." Bastian warns in a lower tone, "It's better like this."

"But Thomas has been head over heels over him for years!"

"We know. He's not exactly discrete about it. But Miro doesn't, and it's our rule is not to meddle in." 

"You have rules?"

Bastian nods, as if this was the most obvious thing ever.

"Fine," Holger sighs, defeated. 

Away from the pair, Lukas puts a hand on Miro's shoulder and smiles. "You should give him a try." 

Holger thinks he hears the words 'too young' or 'not interested', and he's about to jump in the conversation, when Bastian stops him. "Trust us." 

 

"He's so handsome." Thomas lets out, after they land in München. They've beated Manchester United on aggregate, and the entire team is buzzing with energy. "Did you see him today with the--?"

"I see him as often as you do," Holger replies, looking at pictures of his dogs on his phone. 

"You know that party? Later tonight?" 

"What about it?"

"Are you going?" 

Holger raises an eyebrow, knowing exactly where this is going. "If you're asking if I'm going I'm assuming you want me to go with you." 

"That'd be great. I know everyone is going to be there, maybe Miro..."

"Thomas, why don't you just ask him out?"

His friend stops, and looks around a bit checking if their teammates are around. "Because, it's not that easy. I always end up making a fool of myself. Believe me, I've tried."

Little does Holger know how many times he's tried with his _gift._ He thought time travelling would solve all of his problems, but it wasn't that easy. When he hadn't managed to ask Miro out the normal way, Thomas had tried Fips' way of things. But it was useless, every time he managed somehow to make a different mistake than the time before big enough to ruin the whole thing. If it wasn't Thomas spilling his gatorade on him, it was him tripping and pushing Miro into some nearly fresh paint. 

"It's easy, you just get close to him, and tell him you want to go out with him sometime."

Seeing Thomas doesn't say anything, Holger sighs.

"Tonight at the party, deal?" 

"What if I don't?"

"Then you don't get to see your horses for a week."

Thomas isn't sure if he's serious or not, how Holger could think of such an horrible thing to do. He shakes his head, leaving Holger laughing quietly at him. 

 

 

"Where's-- Oh, hey Thomas."

Fips excuses himself after bumping into his friend. 

"What's the matter?" 

"I'm looking for Bastian, he left me a message saying something about his contract extension. Have you seen him?"

Thomas shakes his head, and Philipp shrugs. "Well, it can wait until tomorrow." 

The music is loud, and the lights have changed from the purple and blue dots, to a red tone all together. He decides it's time for another drink, when he spots Miro by the corner of the room. Alone.

Something in his stomach tells him to do it. It's not Holger's threat, or anything else, it's his instinct. He leaves his glass on the counter and temptingly gets near the forward. 

"You look a bit lonely over here." He announces himself, and Miro gives him his typical surprised deer look. It's adorable, Thomas thinks. Soon enough he relaxes, seeing as Thomas isn't really a threat. 

"Well, Mark told me he needed to get another beer, but I guess he got distracted by the dance floor." He takes a sip of his drink, before leaving the glass on the table next to him.

"Not a fan of dancing?"

He shakes his head, making a face which makes Thomas laughs softly, and Miro continues. "You know, I think I may be getting old." 

"Old? Come on! You're only... what... twenty? Twenty one?"

Miro can't hide his laugh, and it's hard for Thomas not to fall in love with it. He takes the opportunity to take a step closer. Miro seems to notice the reduced space, but doesn't seem to mind. Everyone is either dancing or drinking to pay attention to them anyway. Even so, Thomas feels Miro's hand on his side. It's warm, and he tries not to pay too much attention to it. He takes a deep breath, trying to hide the sudden rise in his heartbeat. "I'm thirty two, _Thomas_." 

There's a way in the way he says his name that sends a shiver down his spine. 

"Thirty two makes men more attractive you know," Thomas lets out, and he's surprised at himself. He's actually flirting with Miroslav Klose. It works, to his relief, because Miro seems flattered. 

"Really?" The Pole raises an eyebrow. "Do _you--_ find them more attractive?" 

"A little." He smirks, guessing he must be blushing crimson by now. Miro seems to smile too, because he keeps his questions going. "What else do you find attractive?" 

Thomas laughs, he can't believe this is happening. He barely notices he has pushed Miro against the wall, and the space between them keeps shortening. Miro's hands have completely folded his back. "Well, I guess if they play football... striker... for Germany..." Miro nods slowly, waiting for Thomas to continue. He can't help but stare at the way Miro licks his lips. "If they speak Polish, that's a--"

He doesn't finish that sentence, because Miro is faster and stops him with a kiss. It doesn't take long before he opens his mouth, letting him deepen it. He tastes like alcohol, and Thomas mentally makes a note to thank whoever thought of making this party. Miro moves to his neck, leaving soft pecks on it, and his body can't help but shake a bit. "Miro--" Thomas moans a bit into his ear, not intentionally. It's enough to make Thomas aware that he's starting to get a bit turned on. 

Their lips find each other again several times after that and they're all hungry kisses. Thomas wonders if this is Miro's way of telling him he's been wanting him for so long too. They part of a moment, to catch their breaths, and Miro laughs a bit, probably realising what they're doing. 

"Do you uh- are you sure--?" 

Thomas gives out a small nod, not sure exactly what he's agreeing to. Miro pushes him a bit weakly, almost as if he didn't want to take Thomas' pressure off him, and leads to the balcony. He follows him outside, where the music is lower. The air is cool enough to confirm he's not dreaming. 

Miro stops against the balcony, looking directly at Thomas. It's a beautiful night, and there's barely enough light from the building to illuminate his face, even if it's enough for Thomas to still appreciate it. He's not shy, considering what just happened inside. He leans close enough against Miro for him to cup his face between his hands.

"Miro Klose.." Thomas whispers, again not intentionally, and kisses him on the mouth again, but this time it's slower, and it lasts longer. 

"So--" Miro breathes against his lips, trying to make an actual sentence. Thomas's reaction is to smile, making it his new mission to stop him from talking. They can do that later. 

It must have been more than an hour outside, before Miro finishes by pulling Thomas back inside and sitting him next to him on a couch. He smiles as he lowers his head to fit into Miro's neck. The older man doesn't stop holding his hand too. Cuddling with Miro turns out to be everything he ever imagined and more. Miro mumbles something about not having each others numbers on their phones and how ridiculous that was considering they've been playing together for years. He manages to dictate his numbers to Thomas, who carefully saves them on his phone. Miro isn't really gifted with technology, he knows, so it's a really good step that he wants his number.

He thinks he catches a glimpse of Holgi, but he's not even sure what expression he makes. All he cares is the fact that from where he's sitting, he can feel Miro's heartbeat. It's the last thing he can focus on before he drifts to sleep. 

 

"Have you seen Holger?!" Thomas lets out bursting into the locker room. He realises it's a bit early for training, but he has to tell him about last night. Waking up on that couch, a text on his phone from Miro asking him to have dinner later... It's a dream come true. He only finds Bastian, who seems like he's seen a ghost.

"Are you alright?"

Bastian shakes his head and ruffles his hair. "I'm- Shit." Thomas notices he's on the edge of tears. It's worrying, considering he's never seen him like this. 

"Bastian?" 

He drops some papers, and Thomas automatically picks them up. It's something about his contract, but he doesn't understand. "What is this?" A worst thought crosses his mind. "Are you leaving? You can't lea-"

"I-- I had my brother deliver my papers. He's from out of town, was never a city boy and yesterday was the last day for the contract extension. He got lost, he got lost in München!" 

Thomas takes a moment to sink in the information. "He didn't get the papers in time, did he?"

"No." It's a cold tone, as Bastian kicks the locker a thousand times harder than Thomas ever thought him capable. "I'm-- I'm going to be a free transfer player. There's nothing Bayern can do about it. God. I love this club more than anything." 

"Does Lukas know?"

"No, no, no. How am I going to tell Lukas..." 

He puts a arm around his friend, and tries to awkwardly give him a hug. "Calm down, we can fix this, let's talk to--"

Bastian shakes his head, holding back tears. His voice is shaking. "We can't, I'm going to have to move away from Munich, my home, from Lukas... How did I let this happen?" 

"No, no, come on, there must be something we can do." 

"Unless you have a time machine and able to give directions to my brother, I don't see what else there is to be done." A sarcastic tone replies. 

"Where was you brother coming from?"

"He was at Marienplatz at 8 PM, that's all I know. From there, he got into the wrong street, and that was it. If he had taken the straight way here, there would have been no problem. This is all my fault, I should have done it myself."  Thomas nods slowly. "I'll go see if there's anything that can be done with Van Gaal, hold on." 

He hears the muffled 'it's useless' as he closes the door. He finds a closet, filled with training materials and gets inside it. His eyes closed, fists clenched, he thinks of the easiest memory of the day before. 

 

It's after he's dropped his things from the flight back from Manchester. He takes his keys and jumps into his car. Hopefully he'll find Tobias before he can get lost in Munich's streets. 

He takes a look at the tall monument. He should be really more thankful he gets to play football in one of the prettiest cities in the world. He almost misses Schweini's brother, awkward looking around. He's never met him, but they look so much alike, Thomas wonders if they're not secretly twins. 

"Tobias!" He tries. The man doesn't hear him, and keeps moving in the wrong direction. Thomas uses every inch of energy in his body to catch up to him. Tobias jumps when he sees him. "I think you're trying to get to Bastian, am I right?" Thomas giggles, and Schweini's brother nods softly, full confusion on his face. 

"I don't know the way--"

"That's fine, I'm Thomas, one of your brother's friends. He sent me to pick you up." 

There's a serious relief on his face, and he gets into the car. Thomas makes an success fist, and gets into the drivers seat. 

By the time they're back, Basti is outside, freaking out entirely. He scolds Tobias about what  _would have happened if he hadn't made it in time_. Tobias insists that Thomas is the hero here, even if nobody understands how Thomas knew that he was about to get lost in the first place.  

"I was just in the area," He tells Bastian, when Tobias isn't listening. 

Basti smiles and thanks his friend. "Thanks Thomas. If you hadn't intervened, I would have been forced to leave FC Bayern. I hope you realise how much you've done. I'll never forget this."

He smiles, "That's what friends are for."

Thomas excuses himself to the first closet he finds, and returns to the next morning where he found Bastian. 

He walks in the locker room when Bastian is the first to talk to him. "You'll never guess what happened last night!" It's a far happier sight than the first time he walked in, and Thomas shakes his head, a grin on his face. He's really happy he could help his friend. "Lukas told me that Van Bommel almost punched a guy in the face." 

"Oh yeah, I saw that." Thomas laughs, remembering how easily Mark can get pissed off. "I was sure some ref would jump out of nowhere and yellow card him." 

"How? You weren't there." 

"What? Sure I wa--" Oh no. Shit.

"I mean last night. When you were helping Tobias through Munich." 

Thomas stares at Bastian blankly, because of course... He wasn't there.

"You're right, I wasn't."

But if he wasn't there to see Mark-- What about...  _Miro?_ He opens his phone quickly to check his contacts. He's not there. He's lost Miro. A hand travels to his hair, and ruffles it slowly. 

"About last night, thanks again, it really means a lot." Bastian puts a hand on his shoulder, before he leaves towards the training camp. Thomas sighs deeply. Thankfully, Holger is the next one to walk in the room. 

"You can't see your horses for a week." He teases. 

"Doesn't count. I wasn't even there." He nonchalantly replies. "I swear-- if I had been there, I'm sure I would have made out with Miro--" He smiles a bit, reliving the feeling of his hands all around him, of his lips...

" _A lot._ " 

He's almost offended by the way Holger laughs. "Sure--" He lets out. "And I'm the king of Germany." 

At least he learned something important last night.

"Maybe Miro isn't that not interested in me as I thought," Thomas shrugs, hiding half a smile. Holger turns to him in surprise. "What gave you that idea?" But when Thomas shakes his head in laughter, Holger throws a towel at him and heads outside. 

He doesn't regret it, because in the end he helped Bastian, and after all he did make something else out of the entire affair: Miro Klose is a really _brilliant_  kisser. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this kinda keeps getting more and more random, hope you like it :)

"I don't understand how you knew this restaurant would have a discount for Footballers, Fips."

Philipp shrugs. "Luck, I guess." Thomas laughs, a bit too loudly. He only stops when he feels Fips' glare on him. The national team has decided to go out to eat as to celebrate their reunion. Toni is the one who sits next to him.

"Are you ready?" He asks, in a low voice.

"I was born ready." Thomas replies, even if he has no idea what Toni means. 

"I heard Jogi and Philipp talking. We're to be included in the next match." 

"Seriously?!" Thomas can hardly hide his excitement. 

It's international break, and Thomas really hopes this time he can finally make his debut. He's desperately eager to prove himself to Joachim and to the world. They're to face Argentina in a friendly, and the best part of it is that it'll be played at home: the Allianz Arena.

Back to the hotel, they decide to play a game of monopoly. They make teams, Bastian with Lukas, Per with Arne, Fips with Miro (most to Thomas' disappointment) and Thomas with Manuel Neuer. He hadn't gotten the chance to get to know the goalkeeper at all, but he figures he'll be fine. 

Toni claims to be the best man to be in charge of the bank, or else he would beat everyone. The game starts and soon enough, Bastian and Lukas have bought half of the properties. Thomas and Manuel have been lucky enough to get two of the railroads, and the most expensive place of the game. It's the second avenue that's the deadliest, because Bastian and Lukas have bought almost everything there, except the first and the the last one. It's not long before they want to make a deal with Per and Arne, who are owners of the first missing property.

"If you sell it to them, they'll be able to build houses and hotels." Fips warns, but Bastian has something Per needs: a prison exit. The two have been stuck in jail since the second turn and Toni had said they absolutely needed to get a double number on the dices to get out.

"Let's just do it." Arne sighs, and Per takes the the prison exit from Lukas, who high fives Bastian. They only need the last property now, and it belongs to no other than Thomas and Manuel.

"No" Manuel shakes his head. "Never."

"You'll give in eventually" Bastian challenges, as he gives Toni the money to build houses. It's Fips however, who decides to step in. He offers Basti one of their richest properties in exchange of the railroad. It's a surprising choice, that makes Lukas and Bastian take a moment to discuss it.

"Fips always has something under his wing." Lukas whispers. 

"Yeah, but maybe he can make a deal with Thomas and Manuel to give us that property." 

"Okay, let's try it."

"Deal." Bastian announces, and Fips smiles. Thomas thinks he catches Miro smile too, but doesn't say anything. Fips tells him something else, and after a moment, the striker turns to Thomas. He's forced to take a moment, to put away his feelings. He tries not to focus on the fact Fips could have told him, or the fact that they could have addressed Manuel, next to him. But no, it's Miro directly at Thomas.

"Would you be interested in selling the Königinstraße, in exchange of the railroad?" 

Thomas is about to nod without even considering the outcome, he's not able to deny anything to Miro, when Manu replies for him. "Let us think it through." Miro nods, and Fips starts whispering more information to him. 

"The Königinstraße is the most expensive property. They'll be able to build stuff there, and leave us in ruin." Manuel informs him, very thoughtful, but Thomas is more interested in the way Miro is looking at their way waiting for a reply. 

The goalkeeper shakes his head. "I don't think it's a good idea... Unless..." He turns to Miroslav, "We agree if we get not to pay for next 5 times that we fall on it."

"5 times?!" Philipp gasps, "The game will be over by then!"

"It's that or no deal."

Bastian and Lukas shake their head, hoping Miroslav and Philipp wont agree, because it means they'll suffer. Per and Arne sigh, considering they don't even have many properties anyway. Thomas, hoping he'll make a difference, turns to the pair.

"Please?"

He's surprised how fast Miroslav replies. "Okay," 

Bastian and Lukas whine in the back, "Good job." Manuel tells him, though Thomas has a harder time not blushing, when he hears Fips asking his partner. "What was  _that_ all about?" 

 

Philipp and Miroslav end up winning, with Manuel and Thomas coming to a close second place. Joachim Löw walks into the room, and finds Thomas. He sits next to him. "It's all planned out, you're going to the press conference tomorrow, alright?" 

"Me?" But I'm new, he wants to add. Jogi shakes his head.

"It's time for you to try it. You'll be next to Diego Maradona, just answer the questions they ask you, and don't give out too much about our training. For the second part Toni will be with you."

Thomas nods, before the coach leaves his spot. Manuel sits next to him and smiles. 

"Great game! We make an awesome team." 

He nods, and Manuel offers him one of his snacks. "Nutella on bread? Didn't we just eat supper?" 

"As if that's ever stopped me before..." He smiles, and Thomas laughs. "I always get called out on eating so much too." 

"I feel like we're going to be good friends then," Manuel says. 

 

Cameras and flashes in front of him, and it's a bit surreal for Thomas. He feels like a celebrity, except he's not. He's just a footballer waiting for a match. Some journalists ask the dumbest questions he can ever think of. Of course Germany's aim is to win the World Cup in the summer, and how could he have the faintest idea if Jogi is going to include him in the squad? They even ask him if he wants to go to South Africa, as if anyone would not want to. 

It's time for Maradona to join them, and he sits down on the platform. He's partially thankful he walks in the room, because all the cameras go on him and give him a minute to breathe. He's aware Diego is a legend and a World Cup winner, worthy to be admired. Thomas is aware he has to be really respectful, and not make any mista-

There seems to be a problem, because Maradona doesn't sound too pleased. He's now saying something Thomas doesn't understand, it's in Spanish. Yet, he's signalling him, and suddenly gets up and walks away. Did he do something wrong?

"He doesn't want to talk with Müller in the room, get him out." He catches the translator say, and he feels a soft pat on his shoulder. "Let's go," They tell him. 

"What happened?" Thomas asks, once they're out of the cameras reach. 

"He didn't know you, and thought you were a ball boy. He didn't want to talk to the reporters with a ball boy next to him." 

"A ball boy?"

"He's always been a difficult person to work with--" 

Thomas shakes his head as he can feel the annoyance rise in him. He's been preparing himself to be respectful, and in returned had been treated like this. A ball boy? He can't believe it. He angrily decides that he doesn't have the need to go through this. He'd rather go in a closet and tell Jogi to put someone Maradona doesn't confuse with a  _ball boy_ _._

There's too many people everywhere. It's too crowded to get away and Thomas wonders if the only quiet place left on earth is his hotel room. He's about to enter the janitors closet, when Miroslav stops him.

"Hey, hey slow down there."

Hiding his emotions has always been a big no for Thomas, and this isn't the exception. He sighs heavily out of frustration when Miro puts a hand on his shoulder. 

"Don't listen to him."

"I'm not a ball boy." Thomas annoyingly replies. 

"I know you're not, but Maradona just hasn't seen what you can do." Thomas relaxes a bit, listening to Miro's words under his touch. "Thomas, you're glowing with talent. Everyone who has eyes can see that. I'm sure the world is going to see that too. They just need time." 

"It was so rude of him." He whines, and Miro gives him a sorry look. "I know." 

He opens his arms and pulls Thomas in, as if he knew that would calm him. It works like a charm, and Thomas' heartbeat relaxes. An uncommon sight when Miro is involved. "Just wait for the World Cup, you'll prove everyone wrong." 

"Do you really think Jogi will call me up?" 

"Why wouldn't he?"

There's a confidence in Miro's tone that makes Thomas completely forget about Maradona. They've hugged before, when one of them has scored and the adrenaline of celebrating ends up in sweaty contact, but this feels calmer. Miro's warm, and Thomas even smiles against his shoulder. 

"Hey, Thomas." Philipp calls him out, and waves. "You're up with Toni, come back here." 

He breaks from Miro, and involuntary rushes next to Fips, his cheeks still blushed pink. 

"You know... you could go back and change what happened," He lets out in a whisper, just loud enough for the pair to hear. 

Thomas shrugs, he wouldn't trade that moment with Miro for anything in the world. "It's okay. I've been through worse." 

Toni walks in and Thomas follows him. 

 

Argentina scores, just about the same time where Miro is subbed off. Thomas runs and gives everything from the energy inside him and it's still not enough. Germany doesn't manage and they lose. He glances to the side and his gaze meets Maradona's. The coach pretends he doesn't see him, and greets Angel Di Maria instead.

Even if it's a friendly, Thomas isn't pleased about it at all. Ballack takes the time to check on everyone, he can spot Bastian and Lukas talking. 

"Hey, Müller, wanna get cheered up?" Bastian starts, "Wanna join in our prank?" He's noticed that ever since the Tobias incident, Bastian seems far more open to Thomas. He's told him every scheme he's managed to pull off with Lukas, including the ones on Jogi. 

Thomas raises an eyebrow, skeptical. Lukas smiles. "Basti trusts you, so I trust you too. Anyway, we want to prank Fips."

"Fips? Are you mad?" 

"We're not. You see, Bastian and I have managed to prank everyone on this team since 2004, except... Philipp! It's so frustrating. He always knows what we're up to."

"He's too smart." Bastian completes, and Thomas laughs. They both have no idea, but whatever prank they could think to play on Fips, he has an advantage on the pair that he'll never reveal. He can imagine Fips going to a closet and avoiding the pranks Lukas and Bastian have set up for him. 

"So you in or not?" 

Thomas knows this is bound to fail, but it'll be amusing to watch them get caught. The pair mess far too often with Holger, and as much as Thomas tries to keep him out of trouble, it's sometimes inevitable.

"Sure, what do I have to do?" 

 

This is one of those times where he wonders why he's agreed to working with Bastian Schweinsteiger and Lukas Podolski. 

It's their last afternoon at the hotel before dinner, and they've decided that this is their time to act. The best way of pulling this through is walking to his room while he's having a shower (because Fips could have the chance to spot the difference before), and switching the shampoo bottle with mayonnaise in it. The most enchanting part is that he'll never know it was them, since Thomas will be the one switching the bottles. 

"Wont Fips know it was me?"

"No, he'll never suspect you. We'll be just down the hall with Per, so he can testify we weren't involved. He wont expect one of the new kids to pull of something like this." 

"How am I to walk in his room without being noticed. I don't have the key."

"Took this off of Miro before the game, he didn't even notice." Lukas proudly hands him the hotel room card, and Thomas sighs.

He figures there's no harm done, as Fips will probably figure this out, go back in time and stop him before he completes the deed. It's the only reason he agrees. Except nothing happens, when Lukas leans against the wall, he hears the water running. 

"Now! Before he uses the shampoo." 

Thomas hesitates, not wanting _really_ to prank Philipp. Bastian raises an eyebrow. "Are you backing down on us?" 

"No-- I-- Fine." He gives up. He goes in Fips' room and gently swifts into the bathroom. It's filled with steam, and he can barely make out anything. The shower is running and he can see the shampoos on the side of the tub. He leaves the mayo-shampoo on it, and immediately watched Fips' hand grab it. Success. Now all he needs to do is get out. He opens the door and closes it shut without making a noise. 

He closes the door gently behind him and is ready to join Lukas, Basti and Per when he's stopped by Philipp right in front of him. 

"Wait--"

Bastian and Lukas are behind him, and are making sighs, and Thomas blinks. "If you're here, who's--"

He can't finish his sentence, because the door behind them opens, and an angry Miroslav comes out of the room, one towel on his hip. 

"Podolski and Schweinsteiger!" His voice is unusually mad. Thomas blinks, realising what he has done. The Pole shoves him and Philipp aside directly to the pair. He has to make an effort to ignore the stench coming from his hair. "I cannot believe you would break in our room and change the shampoos--" 

"It wasn't us!" Bastian squeaks, and Thomas fears what's coming. Miro doesn't believe it, but Lukas tries again. "It's true-- We were with Fips."

Philipp is forced to agree, because before going towards his room, he had run into the pair, who had turned white as a ghost when they had seen him. He knew they were up to something, as always, and was ready to be pranked. It amused him how his gift managed to beat the pair of tricksters so often.

"I was with them, they couldn't have changed the bottles. But--" 

He raises an eyebrow at Thomas, who was casually coming out of their room. Miro catches this, and with the most surprised look Thomas has ever seen in him, asks.

"Thomas?"

He can't lie, he's never been able to lie. His heartbeat is rising as he tries to explain the situation as best he can. But Miro's angry look fades, and it turns into defeat. 

"I thought it would be Fips." He finally lets out, his voice shaking. Bastian and Lukas muffle their laughs, as Miro himself cannot believe it. "We were trying to prank Fips."

This time, even Philipp lets out a laugh, and turns to the pair. "I'm smart enough to know you two were involved, so you're coming with me." Their laughs automatically fade, knowing that Fips can be as fearful as the captain, and make them work extra time during training. 

"I figured you'd know better than try to mess with me, Thomas" He adds, 

Lukas notices Thomas isn't coming with them. "It's not fair! Why isn't he getting punished?" To which Philipp simply laughs again. "Miroslav is sure to have that covered." 

 

With them gone, it's only Miroslav sighing deeply as Thomas can't do anything but stare at the ground. It's time to find a closet, as soon as he can. "Excuse me." He tries, but Miro shakes his head.

"You're coming with me." He says, before walking back into his room. 

He could have just made run for it, preventing this from ever happening, but he's curious about what Miro has planned for him. He closes the door behind him and hears a voice coming from the bathroom. "Come on in." 

There's still steam, but it's considerably less than the amount that was there before. He can see Miro's leaning against the sink with a raised eyebrow. 

"Do you like your shirt?" He asks, and it's such a weird question to ask. It's the DFB uniform, and they have tons of it to wear. Thomas shrugs. "Not particularly." 

Miro nods, and Thomas focuses for the first time since he got out of the shower, that he's standing shirtless before him in just a towel wrapped around his hips. Miro looks really good. His thoughts are stopped by his voice. 

"Well, that's fortunate." 

He's about to ask what he means when a jet of liquid falls right on his clothes. It smells awful, and Thomas lets out a gasp. He looks down to his body covered in mayo. Miro has the bottle of shampoo pointed at him, and breaks into laughter. 

Thomas wants to protest, but when he opens his mouth, another jet of liquid falls on his head. It's time for this to stop, and he takes a step closer against Miro. But it's not as easy as he'd want it, because Miro moves around and makes his best to avoid the bottle from falling into his hands. 

"Mirooo!" He yells, hoping it'll be enough for him to stop. He's forced to shut his eyes. His body is tangling into Miro's, but he takes a step too quickly and ends up falling on his back. At least that makes Miro stop, as he worryingly sits down next to him. "Are you okay?"

Thomas manages to get his eyes open again, and hurries for the bottle, wanting revenge. 

"Oh," He realises it's empty. "That's not fair, we wanted to get Fips, not you." He tries, "And you still had no mercy over me," 

Miro smiles, and with half a shrug replies. "Well, Thomas, you have to stand up for the consequences of your actions." 

"It's hard to stand up with the ground full of mayo." 

It's enough to make Miroslav really laugh. It's a side of Miro he hadn't seen, and Thomas decides he adores it. 

 

Only Bastian, Lukas and Philipp seem to understand when Thomas and Miroslav are late to dinner, and both of them stinking of mayonnaise. 

"What on earth--" Micha starts, but Thomas smiles when Miro shrugs. "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Summer comes by pretty soon, and everyone is excited for the soon to be 2010 World Cup. Thomas is even named in the squad for it. It's a dream come true, after all those years watching Germany play.

It's even better because he gets to sit next to Miro on the flight there.

He thinks he had seen Sami Khedira's name on the plan schedule next to him, but when Miro had showed up and told him Jogi had prefered to sit him next to Mesut, Thomas wasn't going to question it.  They're boarding the plan and he couldn't be happier.

He asks Miro how long it is to South Africa. He doesn't know. He asks again what South Africa is like, no, what a World Cup is like. Miro shrugs. He's been in two already, and already has ten goals. It's moments like these that make Thomas really like Miro.

"Do you ever think about your goals?" Thomas asks. 

"What about them?"

"Well if you score 5 more goals this tournament, you'll have the same amount Ronaldo has." In a lower voice, "and if you score 6, you could break the record and be the Top Scorer in all World Cup history."

Miro giggles, and shakes his head. He says something about how teamwork is far more important than goals. Thomas already know where this is going. "I know you'd rather win the cup, but we can do both."  

He turns to the window.

"I feel weird using Michael's number, thirteen," 

Philipp interrupts them, laying an arm on the seat in front of them. "It's also Gerd Müller's number, that's why you have it."

"I know," Thomas frowns, as if he didn't know such a basic information about his idol growing up. 

"So, how are you dealing, _captain?"_

Fips shrugs, and looks away, not wanting to answer the question. Miro turns to Thomas and asks him if he wants something to drink, as he's going to the bathroom and will pass next to the food tray. 

"Some water, thanks." He smiles, and Philipp takes Miro's place for a moment. 

"What's up with you and Miro?" Thomas almost jumps, he had always been so careful to keep that part of his life a secret from him. "What do you mean?" 

Fips shakes his head. He seems somewhat nervous, and Thomas frowns. "Are you alright?" 

"There's only so much we can fix with out gifts. I've been through this so many times," 

"What? The cup? I thought we weren't allowed to mess with Footba--"

"We aren't." He's serious. "It's the issue with Michael Ballack. I've tried every single way to find a solution to the sort the captaincy problem. What a messy situation. It looks like the one I'm choosing to do now is the best option."

"What are you talking about?"

"You'll see, I guess." 

By the time Miro returns, Fips is gone, and Thomas wonders what he could have meant. He temptingly asks Miro. "Do Micha and Fips get along?"

"We all get along with Michael, but I'll have to admit he can be a bit difficult at times. His injury is unfortunate, and--" He takes a moment, "Don't say anything, but if Philipp manages to wear the armband well, I'm not really sure Micha will be pleased."

Thomas nods, his head against the seat looking at Miro, before yawning. Miro shifts his head to his side, and stares for a moment. They stay like that, until Thomas feels the need to break the silence.

"What?" He giggles. He has to admit things with Miro have fairly improved. He thinks back to last year where he could barely hold a conversation with the guy. He had learnt so much about him, including his hobbies, his pet peeves. He couldn't really judge his fishing when Miro had been so enthusiastic about his horses.

"You're tired," Miro replies, still looking at him, and Thomas wonders if he's hiding something else. He wants to say he's not, that he'd love to keep talking, but it'd be useless. He watches the Pole look around and finds a blanket. He blinks and Miro spreads it across his body. It's not long enough, and his feet are still exposed. 

"Well, that will have to do." Miro sighs, but Thomas is too taken by the action to say anything. Miro's hands make sure the blanket covers his back. If he had managed not to blush earlier, he's sure he's given in by now.

"Thanks--" He mumbles, his eyes getting heavier every passing moment. He replies with an acknowledgement hum.

"Thomas?" He makes an effort, to keep his eyes open. When Miro doesn't continue, he yawns a 'yeah--?'

Miro seems hesitant, nevertheless asks his question. "Would you ever consider-- well, yes, consider being with someone from the team... romantically?" 

For a moment, Thomas is sure he's dreaming, because since when did Miro ask  _him_ stuff like that? A tone of confidence strikes him. 

"Like-- Bastian and Lukas are together?" 

"Yeah, exactly like that."

It's how nervous Miro is that makes him realise it's not a dream. He smiles, trying his best not to look too sleepy, then nods.

"Of course--" 

His eyes shut themselves but he can still hear Miro's sigh. After a muffled sound Thomas guesses it's Miro pulling a blanket on himself as well, he hears the small _good night Mülli,_

His next words come out a bit muffled, but he's too sleepy to care. "Opa, would you _ever consider being with someone like-- me?_ " 

It's as if he was mostly asking for himself. He can't hear the reply, because he's already drifted off to sleep. 

 

_Australia_

Lukas scores, Holger and Thomas are on the pitch and it's pure euphoria. He could have never imagined such an atmosphere at a football event. Mesut gives them a thumbs up and there's music coming from the stands. Philipp smiles, before the celebrations end it's time to continue the game. Not only that, but Thomas assisted him.

It's a wonderful feeling, playing for Germany. 

He gives the ball to Philipp, who makes a cross. He's standing a bit far, but he can still appreciate the view when Miro heads it in. His jaw drops, he's actually seen Miro do what he does best: score goals. The best part is that it was a header. 

Everyone runs to him, but Thomas can't help but smile. He's proud of him, he just needs to take a moment. Jogi makes some hand signals, and Thomas nods, knowing what it means. 

Philipp translates Jogi's signals, as clear as they were, but still does it anyway. He's actually impressed by how well Philipp is dealing the captain armband on him. Some people are just meant to lead. He almost misses how an Australian player fouls Bastian and Lukas rushes to his side. It's a red card, and Thomas' stomach shrinks. 

"Are you okay?" Lukas asks, and Bastian nods. 

It's the second half, and the captain's orders are to follow the lead, and it's almost the 70th minute when it happens. Lukas is on his side, and he passes the ball. He cuts off the defender, and has a clear shot. He doesn't think twice about it, instinct takes over. He shoots, it hits the post and finishes inside the net. He's done it. He's scored a World Cup goal.

His first thought is Lukas, who just assisted him. But from the corner of his eyes, he spots Miro, who's running to him. He holds both of his hands up and Miro collides into him eventually. It's not long before Lukas joins them with Sami behind. 

"Yes Müller!" Lukas shouts, and Thomas grins as hard as he can. Cacau finishes with another goal and the game ends up 4-0.

 

Thomas can't remember ever feeling this happy because of football. He's got so much adrenaline running through him. He decides to celebrate with Manuel eating Nutella. Unfortunately, he doesn't have the same resistance that the goalkeeper. He ends up with a stomachache the rest of the night, and the next morning, he still feels awful. Jogi shakes his head and turns to Philipp, murmuring something about responsibility. He can understand why it's not the best time to be sick, so he reluctantly moves to a closet and turns time back when Manuel is offering him the first spoon of Nutella. 

"No, thanks, take that thing away from me."

Manuel's heartbreak on to why his friend has refused Nutella is evident, his face looks like he's just been insulted. Thomas stops at the door, sighs heavily, and returns to the closet.

This time when Manuel offers Nutella, he's sure to have Holger by his side, and the defender happily agrees. 

 

_Serbia_

Football is fun most days, it's spending time practising each day to stay fit. Thomas has found friends in his teammates he now can't imagine his life without. He enjoys travelling, he enjoys visiting other stadiums. He definitely loves World Cups. However, some days aren't as cheery as he'd like them to be, and he can't quite describe what he feels when he spots the ref giving Miro another yellow card. 

Bastian and Sami are furious, claiming it didn't deserve it. Thomas knows he doesn't deserve it. His heart drops when the ref shakes his head, and pulls out the red card. Not only that, but not even two minutes after Miro has gone to the lockers, Serbia grabs the chance and scores against Manuel. Thomas shakes his head between his legs.  

They're not Germany for nothing. They never give up. Philipp makes sure to remind them of this and leads on. Per and Arne stay heavy on the back with Holger and the captain. Sami shoots but it hits the crossbar. So close. 

It seems like their luck is about to change when a defender does a clear handball, and they're handed a penalty kick. Thomas looks up to the crowd, and then towards Jogi, where Miro left earlier. Lukas is the one chosen for the kick, and places the ball firmly on the grass. It must take a lot of character to take a penalty kick under these circumstances, and Thomas is really glad it's not in Lukas' shoes.

Lukas shoots, but the goalkeeper has correctly predicted where he's about to score, and saves the kick. Thomas tries as fast as he can to find a rebound, but the defender holds him down. As he gets up he catches Bastian comforting Lukas, and he shifts his gaze again to where Miro left. They really need a striker right now. 

He's subbed off at some point, but he can't go into the lockers yet and find Miro. Holger follows him after a while, and sits next to him. 

Sometimes football isn't fun at all, Thomas thinks, as the ref blows the final whistle and Serbia has beaten Germany 1-0.

 

The first he wants to do is find Miro, but they're held up by Joachim's scolding, and then it's Philipp who has a word with them. "We're a nation of champions" he says, "we need to act like one."

Thomas watches Miro with an apologetic look, from behind Sami when Philipp is encouraging them, until they leave dinner. Bastian and Lukas are nowhere to be seen, and he can guess Lukas might be taking the missed penalty tight to his chest. Miro excuses himself to his room earlier than usual. He gives Fips a look who nods in agreement, and follows him.

"Miro," He lets out, after knocking on his door. "Miro,"

The striker opens the door, and the edge of his lips curl a bit. "Thomas," He greets, and he takes a step back inviting him in. 

"I brought you Nutella, ever since I started rooming with Manuel, this is all we have in our fridge." 

Miro chuckles, and thanks him. Thomas sits in silence on his bed, and Miro does the same. 

"It wasn't your fault." He starts, hoping it's the right thing to say. Miro sighs, "Yeah, well--" 

Thomas shakes his head. "It'll help us get stronger, I know it." This time there's no reply, except silence. "Miro, don't beat yourself up." 

"I'm not-- thinking about that right now."

"What's on your mind?" 

"I'm just glad you're here." Miro lets out, moving his head to face him directly, which makes Thomas smile. He decides to lay down against the bed. "The next goal I score, it'll be for you,"

Miro joins him, and they both stay there, for a minute just looking at each other. Thomas feels like he's going to burst, and starts talking to avoid such an outcome. "You know--" 

 

Philipp opens the door with his key quietly. Since the lights are out, it must mean Miroslav has fallen asleep. It wouldn't be the first time, Miro always being very careful about his sleep schedule. He stops when he gets to the bed. 

" _Thomas?"_

 He can't believe it: They're simply there, sleeping next to each other. He guesses they both must have been so exhausted they didn't even realise. He hopes Thomas managed to make Miro feel better about that expulsion. 

He turns to his key, grabs his clothes and toothbrush: looks like he's rooming with Manuel tonight. 

 

 

_Ghana_

They have to win this time. Thomas and Mesut promised they'd make a difference this match. He's fond of Mesut, most of the times he's talked to him, he actually seems interested in whatever he chooses to talk (Holger is convinced it's because he's too nice to say anything else.)

Thomas thinks about the hug Miro gave him earlier, before heading out. It's silly to think of it in this way, but maybe that hug transferred some of his magical striker powers and will help him today. 

Ghana's spirit is unstoppable, and he's ashamed he hadn't really thought about their football. Mesut gets a chance, but it's blocked. Thomas shouts to the air, frustrated. What would Miro do right now?

He'd score. With a header.  

Corner kick for Ghana that is fortunately stopped by Philipp on the second post. He yells something about positions, and Thomas obeys. Each game, he forgets that Fips isn't actually the captain, but just a substitute. 

It's actually him and Philipp who start a play, before crossing it over when Mesut has a shot and he scores! He scores! Bastian and Philipp are all over him. It's the breakthrough they needed, and the stadium knows it. It's buzzing with life and energy. 

10 seconds left. The whistle blows. They're in the round of 16, one step closer to the cup. 

 

Per grabs Mesut by the knees, and puts him on his shoulders. "Deutschlaaaand! Deuutschland!" The rest of the team sings with him, as they're leaving the stadium towards the bus. 

"Sometimes I think you really use time travelling for football Fips, you're such a great defender." Thomas whispers, behind the group. "How did you know he'd shoot there?" 

Fips laughs, and shakes his head. "I'm afraid that's just called Instinct I guess, just like you know where to place yourself when no one is watching." 

They get up the stairs, and Philipp sits next to Jerome. Thomas thinks he can hear him say something about his performance, but he's too tired to care. He could eat a bowl full of pasta right now. He passes the seats and there's Lukas, surprisingly not with Bastian, Sami, Mesut, the hero, and.. 

Thomas stops when he spots Miro, with an empty seat. He thinks about the fact he fell asleep in his room last week, and awkwardly woke up next to him. Miro hadn't really said anything, except 'these things happen'. Did they happen? Was it normal to fall asleep next to your crush? He doesn't know what force takes hold of him when he stops next to him. 

"Is this seat taken?" 

Miro looks up from his newspaper, and smiles. "I was actually saving it for you." 

 

_England_

Miro's back, and not just that. He's standing next to him while the hymns play. He can't help it and occasionally glances to him while the entire nation is singing. He's always concentrated, even when it's back home at Bayern or at a World Cup game. 

The game starts, and he can really feel the pressure now. If they get beaten here, they're out. There can be no mistakes like against Serbia. It must have been around 20 minutes in, when Manuel does a clearance. It's too wide, or so Thomas thinks. He spots Miro handling the ball and it's in. 

Goal for Germany. 

He can't believe it, and he's so close too, close enough he can't resist to run after him. He barely touches his shoulder, and Miro slides on the ground. Thomas catches up to him when he gets up. The rest of the team catches up, and finally finds the will to step aside, but he's still glowing. Sami is telling him something about being more careful on the wing, but it's alright: Miro scored. 

England gets nervous, and they show it in the way they pass the ball. Rooney shoots a couple of times, but Manuel is brilliant and stops them all. He wonders if so much Nutella has some sort of effect on him. Arne deflects a shot as well, and the next thing he knows, Miro is giving him a pass. He touches the ball as best he can, and crosses it. Lukas is there, and he scores. 2-0. Bastian of course, jumps on him, as well as the rest of the team. 

"Yesssss!" Thomas feels jump Lukas on his back. But he knows he mustn't sing victory yet. There's still the second half to play. He's right to think that, because England scores right in front of them, and soon enough Lampard almost scores a goal, but Thomas doesn't think it crossed the line. 

A couple of free kicks ends up in their possession, and Thomas notices he's running alongside Bastian all the way to the other keeper. Mesut joins them in the middle, and after fooling some defenders, gives him a pass and Thomas takes a shot and he scores. 

He's not even sure what happens after, he's running, jumping and screaming as loud as he can. He passes through Lukas, Bastian, Sami, Jerome and celebrates with them. When he takes a moment to breathe, he searches for Miro, but can't find him. 

It's not even too long after that, when Mesut takes the ball alone, and Thomas knows he has to help him. He rushes as fast as he can, from the corner of his eyes sees that Mesut has slowed down, clearly waiting for him. He passes it and again, he scores. A double. He jumps on Mesut, and then on Sami. This time, he does see Miro, who's smiling as wide as he can. Bastian gets to him first, and they both jump around. 

 

"You do realise who we're up next against?" Bastian offers a can of orange soda. Thomas takes it and opens it. "Argentina beat Mexico." 

He thinks back of Maradona, and their awful incident. "Whatever," 

They turn on the TV and there's the highlights of their match. He rewatches his two goals, and Bastian congratulates him. 

"It was the assists," he says. Manuel joins them and sits next to them. "And the goalkeeping was spot on too," He finishes.

Manuel smiles, "You guys, I have a very good feeling." 

"Me too," Bastian agrees, and they sit together. The goalkeeper stares for a minute at him. "Can I ask you something?"

He nods, and Manu continues. "Are you and Lukas together officially? Or is it just one of those things you never mention?" 

Thomas almost shoots the soda out of his mouth, he's never seen Bastian blush. He doesn't reply, and focuses on the TV instead. 

" _What did I say?_ " He mouths at Thomas, who's still laughing. " _I'll tell you back in the hotel room._ " 

 

_Argentina_

Before leaving the tunnel, Thomas turns to his back to Miro. He's been nervous for the past two days, and specially now. Not the tiniest lip curl from him. He'd be lying if he didn't say he didn't miss his smile. He wants to tell him it'll be fine, that it'll be alright. One last time before they go out, he glances behind with a grin. This time Miro catches it, and makes a face acknowledging it. He doesn't think he could get tired of the World Cup music. He glances to his right, and spots Messi. Everyone talks about him as the world wonder, but he trusts his team. They'll be able to contain him.

Seconds before the whistle, Thomas sees Maradona on the bench. "Remember about the yellow cards," Fips warns him, and he nods. It's not even been 3 minutes when they win a free kick. Bastian takes it, and, as Fips would describe it as instinct, Thomas rushes in front of the defender and heads the ball in. The stadium goes wild, and Thomas runs to Bastian. He almost misses Miro behind him, cheering with him. "Who's the ball boy now!" Lukas shouts, and everyone cheers even harder.

The euphoria of the goal comes crashing down the moment Messi is in front of him and the ball falls on him. The problem is that it's directed to his arm that he can't move. Argentinian players call for a handball, and Thomas turns in horror as the referee calls for a yellow card. No, this can't be happening. His hand travel to his head, and he thinks he can hear Fips from a distance, calling his name. 

He spots Miro trying to talk to the referee. "I couldn't move my arm!" He tells Bastian, completly frustrated. He stares blankly at the players preparing for a free-kick when Miro's voice brings him back.

"Thomas, don't lose focus." 

He nods, and prepares for the next move. He'll have time to feel sorry later for himself. 

After that it all goes smoothly in the second half, Lukas has the ball and passes it to Miro, who scores. They celebrate as they can feel the semifinal closer every second, and then it's no other than Arne who finds the net. Thomas is subbed off in the final minutes, and he sits down. "You did a great job, no one is going to be mad," Jerome tells him. 

Maybe he's right, and he hasn't let his country down. From the bench he watches Miro score again, and he smiles. There's the somersault. He's got 14 goals now. 

 

_Lahm, 26, led Germany to third place in South Africa in the absence of Ballack and wants to keep the rol--_

Miro turns the TV off, and Thomas sighs. He remembers what Fips told him on the plane, and tries to forget about it. A thought crosses his head. 

 

"Two more and you'll be top scorer, you realise that?" 

"Yes I do, Thomas, but I'm more worried about Spain right now," 

"Of course you are," Thomas sits up from the bed, and Miro takes off his shirt, without warning. He throws it on the bed and it falls on Thomas' knee. It's clearly not the intention he means, but Thomas can't help but gasp a bit. Miro looks at him with round eyes.

"What is it?"

"Nothing--" Thomas smiles, but can't directly look at him. He hides his face in the pillow next to him and shakes his head. "I'm nervous about the game."

Miro isn't fooled, but shrugs. "Yeah, me too," He places his training shirt on, much to Thomas' disappointment, though now he can focus on the conversation. Fips opens the door and greets Thomas without even seeing him. Miro excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving the two alone. 

"How did you know I was here?" He asks, 

Fips looks at him, not very impressed. "Besides that you spend most of your time here lately? I walked on you two and Miroslav was shirtless-- and well I figured it'd be best not to interrupt that so I went to a closet." He hesitates, but continues. "Now I know it's none of my business but Thomas, I know young adults now know far more about the activities of sexual intercourse that they let on, sexual feelings are normal and are felt often and sometimes really strongly--"

What? What is he-- His eyes grow wide, "Oh nonono, it's not what you think--" If Philipp walked in when Miro's shirt was on his knee and shirtless he might have thought...

"I know Miro is a bit older than you, but I know this is happens in a team, even so, as acting captain I must warn you that whatever relationship--"

Thomas shakes his head even harder, but Fips doesn't see it. "Please use protection, you don't know what could happen, when you get surprises, and"

"Philipp!" He gasps, "He's going to hear you--"

"What's going on?" Miro comes out, and Thomas is as red as a tomato. Philipp smiles softly. "Miroslav, I've known you for years, I'm so happy for you. I think he's a good boy, I was just trying to tell him more about the things you have to think about when you enter a relationship of that kind, right Thomas?"

"What?" Fips catches the confusion in Miro's voice. "We're not--" He stops, not knowing how to word it. "We're um not-- together." He settles. 

Fips blinks, but when he turns to Thomas, he's already closed the closet door. 

 

When Fips walks in the second time, Thomas jumps out of bed and throws him outside the room. 

"Before you assume anything, I am not sleeping with Miroslav Klose, him being shirtless a couple of minutes ago in front of me does _not_ mean that and you don't have to tell us about using protection. I don't need a 'sex talk'. Miro is a very attractive man and it's easy to be drawn to him but that doesn't mean we're--"

Fips blinks, but he's looking behind him. Thomas wants to scream internally (and possibly die) when he points at the door not being closed behind them. He turns his head to find Miro with the same confused expression from earlier. 

"I can explain," He starts, but he really can't, so instead, he walks pass Miro and goes back into the closet. 

 

The third time Fips enters the room, Thomas acts as if nothing happened. Miro excuses himself to the bathroom as usual. 

"It's not what you think. He was just changing." He settles, hoping it'll not go further than that, and it doesn't. Fips nods, "Oh, I thought--" 

" _I know_ ," He says, in a exasperated tone, "but no, it's not like that."

Fips laughs, probably understanding the drama he must have caused and Miro comes back, with a confused face. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing--" He replies, much to Thomas' relief. 

 

 

Puyol's goal against Germany feels like a huge stab in the heart. Nobody says a word the drive back, and after one of the most depressive meals of his life at the hotel, there's nothing else Thomas finds himself to do than to go to his room, again.

Miro opens the door and lets him inside, they both sit on the couch, and Miro throws his head back, closing his eyes.

There's silence between them after that, and Thomas sighs. He had thought Serbia had hurt, but nothing compared to what he was feeling right now. A mix of guilt and frustration from not being able to even help. And Miro-- He wishes more than anything to spare Miro from this pain. He thinks of what to say, but everything feels wrong and fake. An idea crosses his head. 

"We'll win in four years, I promise." 

Miro opens one eye, and tilts his head to watch him. His lips smile slightly, but there's more of a sad feeling to it. It makes Thomas a bit sad, because he's really fond of the usual grin he's seen this tournament. "It's going to be okay, Miro, I promise." 

Miro nods, "I just wish I could have won something, you know, I've given so much to this team-- I really thought we'd--"

"We will! We've got time--" 

"You've got time." He corrects, before turning his eyes back to the ceiling. "We don't even know if I'll be fit in 2014, I'll be 36. Should I retire now?" 

Thomas shakes his head, no, he has to be fit. "I'll make sure you're fit. We can make a diet and, um, a routine--" 

He watches Miro smile brighter now, clearly taken by his determination. "I'm just disappointed, I've lost 3 finals, you know. In 2002 it was against Brazil, in 2006, against France, in 2008 Spain... Now it's not even the final. Maybe I'm not meant to win thes--" 

Thomas pulls his head up, and looks straight into his eyes. They're so honest, on him. Thomas feels like Miro can see right into his soul, and read him like an open book. He shakes his head, "Don't say things like that Miroslav Klose. We _will_ win, and never mind 2014, there's the Euros in 2012."

He can feel Miro's touch on his side, and it's warm. He could definitely get used to being this close to him. The hand moves up to the shoulder, but he still can't escape his eyes set on him. He feels Miro pulling him down a bit, and he complies. When he's close enough to him, Miro lifts his body up a bit and presses his lips against his. It's surreal, and lasts only for a couple of seconds, before Miro pulls down, waiting for a reaction.

They just lost the World Cup semifinal, and yet, Thomas' reaction is still a genuine smile.

He returns to his position, and there's the first time Miro takes his hand. Thomas relaxes into the touch, he lets his head fall into Miro's neck, and closes his eyes. "I promise we'll win." 

"Thank you, Thomas." 

 


	5. Chapter 5

"He _kissed_ you?"

"Is that so hard to believe?!" Thomas is almost offended by Holger, who shrugs. "But don't tell anyone, I don't know if Miro would want that, it was just-- a surprise." 

"So.. what now?"

He frowns, before the coach interrupts them. He's thankful, because he actually has no idea what his relationship with Miro is at the moment. A kiss always means something, right? Miro likes him enough to have kissed him but hence the question: was that enough to put them in some sort of weird relationship? He has to consider the fact that Miro was deeply hurt by the defeat, like they all were. They had been on holidays after the cup, and even though he had Miro's number, he was too scared to text first. 

He's been specially nervous about today, their first day back at training. 

Would have Miro kissed anyone else who was there? It seemed so intimate, he has a hard time imagining Miro kissing Fips or-- 

"Müller!" He turns to Bastian, who seems really pissed off. "What's u--"

"Did you steal my pictures?"

"Your what--?" 

"My pictures! They were in my locker and they're gone and I can't find them,"

"Why would I take your pictures, Schweini?"

"Maybe you wanted to blackmail me," He accuses, and Thomas decides it wouldn't hurt to help his friend out. "When's the last time you saw them?" 

"The locker." 

Thomas shakes his head " _when, not where."_

Bastian's face relaxes, and in a small smile replies. "Yesterday I came here to drop off some material, and they were there. It must have happened last night."

Excusing himself to the bathroom, he turns and heads inside to find a closet. Sometimes he wants to tell Bastian about his secret, but he remembers Fips. No one in his right mind would question his authority. 

 

He goes back to the day before, and rushes to the lockers before the mysterious person can rob Bastian. When he opens the door he runs into Bastian himself instead, carrying a bunch of cones and training equipment. 

"Hey, what are you doing here? Training starts tomorrow."

"Look out for the pictures inside your locker, someone may want to steal them." Thomas warns, considering it may save him some time. The look on Bastian's face is shocked, as if something awful had happened. "Shit, Thomas--"

He pulls him into a press conference room, and Thomas isn't sure what's going on. Weren't they worried over the photographs? 

"How did you know about those?"

"Uh--" He thinks, and lies. "Luki told me."  

"No, he didn't." Bastian firmly replies. "I--" Shit. He doesn't know else to say, starts another excuse but he's cut off. 

"I told you about my pictures, I just don't remember... Because it hasn't happened yet." 

Is he implying something about--? No, he's been extremely careful, there's no way he could even think of something like that. "Are you drunk?" He tries. 

"No." Bastian is serious. "You have it, don't you?" 

It's clear that he knows. There's no use denying the obvious. "How did you--?"

Victory spreads through his eyes and he throws his fist as if he had scored a goal. "I knew it. You have the club power, don't you? Time travel!"

Fips is going to kill him, he's dead. Bastian seems to notice the panic in his eyes, "Hey, it's okay, I've suspected for a while." 

"You have? How?"

"It was really weird you saved Tobias like that last year, Thomas. Plus, you always seem to work yourself out of situations-- and it was something Gerd Müller said, when I last saw him."

Thomas sits down against the wall, and Basti continues. "He said you two had more in common than the last name." 

"And from _that_ you figured we both could time travel?" It's meant to be sarcastic, but it comes out more like a genuine surprise. 

Bastian shrugs, "I read it in an old book I found downtown, I never thought it'd be actually true." 

"No one knows, you can't tell anyone." 

"I know, I know the rules. Oh boy, this is so cool. Can you predict the future?" 

"I can't go in the future, only the past. You told me someone had stole your pictures so--"

"You went back to warn me like I'd expect you to do. My plan worked perfectly." 

Thomas turns to him, "Your plan?"

"There are no pictures in my locker Thomas, no one could have stolen them. I thought about telling you tomorrow at training-- if you had your gift you would have told me today, and you did."

"You're a twisted man, Schweinsteiger."

"So no one knows? Holgi?" Thomas shakes his head. "Fips?" It's only then when he realises Bastian must not suspect the captain. At least something is still secret. "Not even Miro?" 

Thomas smiles at the name, and shakes his head. "Really? If I had that, Lukas would be the first to know." 

There's been so many times where he's wanted to tell Miro, and explain him everything, but again: "It's complicated, and dangerous. I'm not supposed to." 

"Why haven't you used your gift to hook up with him?" And before Thomas makes a face, "Come on, the entire team knows you two have something going on." 

He's blushing, which brings a laugh to Bastian. "I don't think I've ever seen you blush over someone."

"He-- kissed me in South Africa." 

"Yeah, he told Poldi about that." 

"He did?" He's surprised Miro would even talk about his feelings to anyone, "What did he say?" 

Bastian laughs and shrugs. Thomas has to know this. "Come on, I just told you my biggest life secret, you have to tell me!" 

" _I figured it out,"_ He corrects, "But fine, okay, I'm going to break my rule of not meddling in others relationships for the sole reason that I wouldn't be a Bayern player if it weren't for you. We've known Miro for a while. We started teasing him with you and honestly, we were surprised when he actually blushed at it."

Thomas' heart is racing, as if this were Miro confessing his feelings. "And then?" 

"The age difference worries him, but the most important issue was that you wouldn't like him too." 

"Like him too?"

Bastian smiles. "Because he's really into you, Thomas, go figure out why."

"Is he blind? I've been crushin-" 

"Yes, he is. After your kiss, he's been wondering if he crossed the line or not, it's no secret he turned to Poldi."

Thomas nods, and smiles somewhat satisfied. 

"Your secret is safe with me, by the way."

  

When they walks outside, they run into Philipp. Bastian thanks Thomas for his trust, and leaves the pair alone. Fips has a worried look on his face, and Thomas simply knows what this is about.

"You told him, didn't you?"

"He figured it out." A tone of defense rises in his voice, 

"He can't know." 

"It's too late," Thomas tries to excuse Bastian,

" _It's never too late for us_." Fips reminds him. "You have to go back and stop him from figuring it out." If Thomas went back and didn't warn him about the pictures, he guesses Basti's plan wouldn't have worked. He sighs, and Fips notices his frustration. "I know, it's hard, but this is how it must be." 

It's probably the first time he regrets having this gift, as he complies to Philipp's orders. The next day when Bastian tells him about the photographs, Thomas offers help to look, even though he knows it's useless. Someday he'll tell him, he promises himself. 

 

* * *

The first time Thomas sees Miro after South Africa (after their kiss) is only when he's practising headers with Mark. When the captain spots Thomas, he excuses himself. He can't tell if he knows about what happened between them in South Africa or if he just needed to go. 

Either way, he waves him goodbye. 

Miro looks amazing, he thinks. His mind wanders to what Bastian told him, the fact that conversation didn't happen now doesn't make it any less real. _Because he's really into you._

"Thomas," The Pole starts, and he almost feels bad he hadn't noticed the lack of shooting. Miro is staring right at him, and Thomas can't help but smile between his lips. Truth is, he doesn't know what to tell him, so instead he takes a few steps towards the ball to the only language they both fully understand. He volleys the ball and Miro heads it in the net, and Thomas decides that it's better this way.

Maybe some people just have this kind of relationships, like Bastian and Lukas. He hopes one day it'll be him and Miro. 

 

 

"I can't believe it, _no!_ ugh, no."

"What is it?" Toni places a friendly pat on Miro's shoulder, who clearly seems upset at the computer. "Can't figure out how to send an e-mail again?" He teases. 

He ignores the obvious bullying. "There are no more tickets for the fishing festival next week!" 

Miro doesn't usually look this frustrated, unless they're losing a game. Thomas can't help but tilt his head towards the pair from the couch, and quietly observes. Toni shrugs. "Why didn't you buy some any sooner?" 

"I didn't know there'd be a festival. This is so frustrating, if I had known earlier..." 

An idea strikes him. Thomas gets up without saying a word and opens the door, towards the nearest closet he can find. 

 

"What is it?" Toni asks again, but this time when Miro complains about the lack of tickets, Thomas smiles, confidently placing his body between the screen and Miroslav. He takes out a pair of tickets from his back pockets and shakes them in front of the pair. Miro's eyes light up in a way that he's never really seen. 

"I have two tickets, if you're interested." He adds, a grin across his face. This is perfect, now he and Miro will go out to do something he's fond of and it's a perfect date.  

"We can even--" He starts, but then Miro takes the tickets. "I could even ask one of the twins to come with me. Thank you so much, Thomas." 

The striker gets up, and gives him a hug. He would have enjoyed it more, had not Miro just suddenly taken off like that. Toni muffles a laugh, and Thomas frowns at him. He doesn't understand, he was obviously asking him to go with him. 

"You're supposed to say 'I have an extra ticket', geez Müller, I thought you knew how to flirt." 

This is not how it ends, Thomas thinks, and turns once more to the closet. 

 

"I have an extra ticket, Miro, if you're interested," He hopefully says, wishing Miro wont say no at the idea of spending time with him. He says yes, his eyes light up the same way they did before, and this time he hugs him for a longer time. He smells nice, Thomas notices. 

"I'd love to." He's sure he's blushing when he pulls away. "Though, I didn't know you liked fishing." 

 _I don't. It's boring._ "I've never really tried it... so why not?"  _But I like you so much that I'd do anything to spend time with you._ Toni laughs once Miro leaves, and shakes his head. 

"You and Miro huh?"

But Thomas is more focused on the fact that he's got a proper date with Miroslav Klose. 

 

He doesn't know what's making him more nervous, the fact he doesn't even know how to hold a fishing rod or the fact he's going on a date with Miro. Bastian tells him to relax, that it's going to be fine, and Lukas does the same.

"What do people even do there?" Lukas asks, and Thomas shakes his head indicating he has no clue. "Fish." 

"Try not to get eaten by sharks." Bastian throws his tennis ball against the wall and catches it. Lukas laughs. "Though if Thomas falls into the water, Miro can save him from drowning. 

Turning to Thomas, he adds. "I still can't believe you're going  _fishing_ with him."

"Fishing can be fun--" He starts defensively. 

Lukas doesn't let him finish. "You've never fished before, all you know is football and golf-- and horses."

"I'll be fine," He concludes, looking at himself in the mirrow, ignoring the laughing fits from the pair. 

 

"Uh, Thomas?" 

"Yes Miro?"

"You do realise we're going fishing... right?"

Thomas blinks, "Of course Miro." Sure, he had noticed Miro was wearing a  _fishing_ hat, a  _fishing_ jacket, some  _fishing_ waders and some very dirty  _fishing_ boots. An equipment Thomas was lacking. He had just put some sport pants and a raincoat. 

"Lukas said it would be enough." He watches Miro look for the tenth time down at his outfit and shake his head. 

"You can have my hat," Miro sighs, and his hands travel to his head. Thomas needs a moment when Miro places it on his head, and gives him a smile. "It suits you." He says,

 

Fishing is _incredibly_ boring. This is the first thing he realises after two hours of holding his rod and nothing moving in the water. Miro seems to be at ease, or that's what he gets from all the times he's turned to him hoping to find something changed. He's caught around a dozen of small fish, but that's about it. Still, it's better than what Thomas has caught: nothing. 

The boat they're in is small, according to Miro it's best not to alarm the fish. Thomas only likes it because he can be closer to Miro. There's other contestants in the lake, and they all seem as relaxed as them. 

"It clears my mind." Miro says at some point, noticing Thomas' unsteadiness. He can understand why Miro likes it so much, it's calm and quiet, like himself. Everything Thomas is not. 

"You come here alone?" An affirmative mumble comes from behind, and Thomas continues. "I'd go mad not being able to talk to anyone for hours."

"I'm sure you would." Miro replies, and Thomas doesn't miss the hint of amusement. 

Another hour later, he still hasn't caught anything or felt anything at all. He asks Miro if it has to do with the bait he's using. Miro pulls his rod out of the water, and notices Thomas isn't using his it the right way. 

"When you use fish as bait, make sure that the hook goes through the head and jaw." 

Thomas would be paying more attention, but Miro being so close to him makes him forget about everything else. Miro pulls back the rod from the water and places the bait without effort. He throws the line back into the water and passes the reel to Thomas, who almost drops it. It's obvious he has no idea what he's doing, so without a thought, Miro wraps his arms around Thomas from behind to show him. He even places his hands over Thomas' as they both hold the reel. 

"It might be a while." Thomas says out loud, only knowing fishing takes a moment and not if Miro had taken this into consideration. "I know." He replies,

It's not exactly a hug, but it's contact, and Thomas' heart is rushing. He wonders if Miro's is as well, still, he doesn't say a word, scared to interrupt the moment and that Miro might pull away. Suddenly, the rod moves, and Thomas knows what this is. Finally! A fish! He jerks his body forwards, and starts spinning the reel up as fast as he can. He's not fast enough and the thought of losing the only chance he has had in hours is out of the question, so instead he pulls it with the rest of it with his body and hopes it'll be enough for the bait to come out.

It is, Thomas manages to watch the fish fly from the water right into the boat. A scream of satisfaction escapes his lips. When he turns to Miro he realises the movement he just made has sent the striker off balance, and Thomas want the world to swallow him alive when he watches Miro fall over the board right into the water. 

 

"I'm so sorry." He babbles for the millionth time. "I'm really sorry." 

"It's okay Thomas." 

Miro is driving him home, soaking wet, and Thomas sighs heavily at the fact he really didn't see it coming. Worst part is that he didn't even have a closet to run into (not that he'd like to relive those incredibly boring hours). He was too busy catching the fish he forgot Miro was around him. "I had a real nice time." He says, and Thomas turns to him a bit surprised. "Really?" He smiles, and Miro nods. 

"You're really something Thomas," He adds, and he can't help but get the feeling it's not only the fishing he means. The car stops in front of his house, and as much as he wants to hide away from the shame of what happened earlier, Thomas doesn't really want to go. Thankfully, Miro offers to walk him to his doorstep. 

"Want to come inside?" He offers, out of courtesy, more than an actual possibility. Miro politely rejects, of course. "Thanks for the ticket." He says, "It would have been a shame to miss it."

"Even if you ended up swimming with the fish instead?" 

Miro laughs, and nods. But Thomas is glad he didn't make a complete fool out of himself. "I'm surprised you managed to go through hours of not moving around,"

"I'm full of surprises." He proudly says, and the Pole's smile fades a bit. He seems hesitant. Thomas needs to ask him what's wrong.

"Do you remember, um, this summer, um, on the plane?"

Thomas thinks about the flight to South Africa. He remembers Philipp warning him about Micha, and the captaincy issues, though he hadn't understood at the time. He remembers falling asleep next to Miro. He shakes his head, not knowing exactly what of these things Miro means. 

"You asked me if I'd ever go out with someone like you." 

It hits Thomas like a bomb because he  _does remember._ He had figured he was dreaming, but the fact Miro was pointing it out here stated otherwise. He feels his cheeks turn red, and Miro looks down. 

"I never replied." Thomas, for once, is lost at words. "And well--" 

Some things are better left without words, and this definitely one of those times. Miro takes a step closer and closes the gap between them. Thomas opens his mouth this time, letting him deepen the kiss. His hands move unwillingly to his hair, and when Miro pulls away, they both smile, quite not fully aware this is really happening. 

"Do you really have to go?" He asks, pushing his luck a bit. Miro smiles and kisses him again. It's slow and tender, "See you tomorrow at training." He says, before he turns back to his car. 

Once the door is closed behind him, Thomas falls against it, completely flushed. 

 

* * *

The first thing he does the next morning obviously, is to find Miro first. Nothing else has been on his mind. He knows Bastian will want to know how it went on their date, but this is more important. He jumps on him from behind greeting him. 

"Good morning handsome!" He lets out, without thinking. 

A tired whimper comes from under him, and Thomas falls back to his feet. Maybe it was too much, because Miro smiles weakly, and a feeling of guilt takes hold of him. He has to move when Miro sneezes right in his direction. 

"Gesundheit." He says, suddenly worried. "Are you sick?" 

Miro shakes his head and with a nasally voice denies, "I'm fine."

He places a hand on his forehead, to find that he's not doing 'fine'. "You're boiling up Miro, why did you come to training?" But Miro shakes his head again, insisting that he's alright. 

Maybe he could help him out. Thomas leaves him for a moment before heading towards Louis Van Gaal. He explains the situation, and even if he's not too enthusiastic about missing one of his strikers. In the end a sick striker isn't going to do much good either. He even convinces him to be excused from the first set of training exercises to drop him off at his place. 

 

Miro doesn't say much during the drive, and Thomas guesses it must be the fever. "Is Sylwia home?" He asks, once they walk inside. It's a bad time to realise he's never been to his place. He shakes his head,

"She took the kids to her moms for the week," 

"You're all alone? But you have a fever!" Thomas panics, even though he's not to blame. He stops, thinking about what happened the day before. "Wait, did this happen because of the water incident?"

"No," Miro denies, but Thomas frowns, thinking about how he was sneezing on the drive back from the lake. "I'm so sorry Miro, I did this to you." 

He hurries to the kitchen, and is determined to make it up to him. "You go to bed." He orders too, and Miro doesn't need to be told twice. "We have to check your temperature too..."

Not even 30 minutes later, Thomas walks in Miro's room with soup in a bowl. Miro smiles, even if it's a faint one. He helps him sit and joins him next to him. "My grandma taught me how to make this." 

Miro doesn't reply, he eats slowly, but doesn't take his eyes off of Thomas. He looks around, and notices a wooden cross decoration hanging on the wall. "I made that." Miro points out, followed by a sneeze. 

"You did? It's beautiful." He says, and he means it. He even jumps out of bed and takes a better look at it. "My parents wanted me to learn a trade, so..." 

"You're really talented," Thomas says, with a smile when he turns back. Miro lets his head fall against the pillow, clearly exhausted. "Do you want some medicine?" He offers, but apparently he's already had some. 

"It'd be--" Miro pauses, "nice if you um, came here." 

At this point he doesn't know if he's red because of the fever or if he's blushing, either way, Thomas doesn't take long to lay down next to Miro, grabbing his hand. A thought crosses his mind, when Miro places his head in the crook his neck. Maybe if he hadn't taken Miro out on the fishing festival, none of this would have happened. He wouldn't be skipping training or with a fever. He notices the closet across the bed too. 

"Miro?" 

"Hmm?" He turns to Miro, whose eyes are now shut, but he's still trembling against his skin. "If you could go... back and not go to the festival-- and not get sick... would you? Or if you went with someone else rather than with me."

There's silence, and Thomas doesn't know if it's because he's falling asleep or if he's just not replying. 

"No" He weakly says, finally. "I wouldn't change it for the world." Thomas looks at him again, and this time his eyes are open, and he's smiling. He must be doing a huge effort, and it's only natural he returns the smile. "I'm glad you're here with me." He adds. 

"I'm glad I'm here too." He admits, and with that, kisses him softly to avoid making him feel uncomfortable, but still enough to let him know he's there. Miro returns to his position, and Thomas knows he's fallen asleep when his breathing finally slows down. 

He takes the chance to look around the room. He hadn't noticed the pictures framed on the side of the bed. There's Miro with the 2006 squad, at the World Cup final. He remembers it like if it was yesterday. Germany so close to winning the cup at their home land. He was there, in Berlin when they lost it. Then there's a picture of the twins, Noah and Luan, Miro is probably the best father that exists.

Next to it, there's a picture of the 2010 world cup too. Thomas has to avoid gasping when he spots himself next to Miro and Bastian. It's the picture they took after the match against Argentina. 

He can't help it: He kisses Miro's forehead in a sort of weird thank you way, but he's happy. He smiles against it when he realises he's never really needed his gift to make things work between them. He thinks that even without time travel, Miro and him would have fallen for each other, and it's a thought he wont let go for a while.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i kno w this is another story and i can't stop myself im sorry


End file.
